Disappearing World
by flawsinscience
Summary: Crossover starring characters from Judge John Deed and Holby City on BBC1
1. Chapter 1

Kristine can be blamed, cursed at, loved for this piece of work that is going to challenge my abilities as a writer.

A/N Neither The Judge nor Connie belong to me sadly, but the story does

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_Disappearing World_

She wasn't entirely sure why this bar had stuck out to her so much, she wasn't even sure why the hell she was still in London, having been down for Michael's appeal hearing the dutiful wife role had run it's course and she could have been back on duty in only a couple of hours. Yet she was sitting at the dark, deep mahogany bar sitting handily close to the Old Bailey. Spending the day in court had made her realise just how much of a good decision medicine had been, the staff there appeared to be soulless, something she professed to knowing but knew she was apt at providing compassion when time called. It wasn't her problem that Michael had been told to stay put for the meantime, moral fibre inside made her feel slightly remorseful that her bed would still lie empty at night, yet her head knew it was the right decision, letting him out now would be pointless, lessons would remain untold and he'd return to old ways within a matter of weeks. Still it didn't stop her making a good go at getting as drunk as was possible.

Letting her slightly blurred eye catch the new face crossing the threshold she was slightly aghast at the appearance of the judge residing over her husband's case. Catching her eye the man started in her direction, smiling slightly as he leant forward on the bar, not committing to a stool yet not hoping to the door either.

"I recognise your face from somewhere," he stated in a silky drawl, similar to Ric's yet unique in his own right, she watched carefully as he downed the whisky in one, slamming the glass on the table and nodding to the bar tender to refill it.

"I was in court today, why?" she replied evasively, making small talk with any one outside the realms of family, colleague or friend was beyond her, a pet hate of falseness that she couldn't stand.

"No reason, I'm just trying to entertain a lost looking soul," he retorted smoothly, making nothing of the harsh implications of his statement.

"Well I'm not lost and I'm not in the mood for entertainment, but if you're here to stay sit down and make yourself comfortable, I hate people who don't know whether they're coming or going," came the spitting reply as she necked the rest of her gin and tonic, recoiling as the liquid burned down the back of her throat, it had been a long time since she'd gone out with such intent on getting hammered, but she thought it was a one off hankering back to the past.

"You sound like you talk from experience," he asked, sitting down on the stool as she'd asked, ordering his third whisky before turning so his body was facing her, and more particularly her legs which extended eloquently from the short skirt she'd put on, being away from her husband meant she could play if she wanted, and parading in an outfit often used to tell him what she wanted at night made the ideal get back.

"Have you tried running a large inner city Cardiotharacics unit lately?" she questioned in return sliding an extended finger round the rim of her tarnished glass, sinking into the tiny crack that lay on the top of it.

"So you're a surgeon then, I had you down as either a stay at home wife or a professional, never a doctor," he replied carefully keeping her gaze for as long as he could.

"Are you always so judgmental," she drawled, reminding him of a cat, lying wistfully in the sun after spending the afternoon sleeping in a snug bay window, not someone probably drinking themselves stupid after having their husband returned to jail for the foreseeable.

"Well it is in my job title, Judge John Deed," he retorted mischievously, clearly apt at playing her back at their own intellectual game.

"So is giving a f u c k about your patient's private lives with me, yet I don't tend to care," she smirked, relaxing slightly as the effect of the drink began to take a hold of her, "so at which point do they surgically remove your soul in those places,"

"It's usually around the time when you graduate, brilliant present wouldn't you say," he said, slightly taken aback at his forward agreement. She sat for a moment, neither laughing nor replying, instead finding interest in the bubbles that fizzled in the tumbler afore her, "are you just going to stare at that for all eternity," he spoke softly, interrupting her reverie.

"Avoiding reality for a moment, excuse me," she apologised, feeling the blood flush in her cheeks, draining her own glass before turning to him, sending a provocative smile towards him.

"Let me buy you another drink if you'll entertain me for the duration of the evening that it'll take for us to get drunk enough to lose any sense of caring," he watched as she smiled and let a perverse nod escape, motioning for a refill he continued, "tell me to leave off but are you divorcing your husband,"

"It depends very much on who's asking, to you yes, the man never loved me for what I was, only what I used to be, to anyone else, no it keeps life simpler."

"You and me both," he stated, feeling the pressure of her under his skin already starting to dissipate, it's why he loved coming to this particular bar, picking up the waifs that felt the need to drown reality out for all of an evening, transporting them back to a time when any iota of guilt over drinking passed with the taste of vodka on lips.

"You're separated with a parasitical ex wife too then," she purrs, the effect of alcohol leaving a slight slur on each syllable as it passes effortlessly into the atmosphere.

"Separated yes, George is far from an animal," he drawled in long languorous tones, hinting at the sadness he still possessed for his past relationship, sinking low in his heart he knew George still had a place for him, there weren't many people who sent him into a teenage dalliance at the mere blink of an eye, yet she still did.

"In all honesty I would class Michael as one, a posh toff yes but animal, no, he just…"

"Irritated you with his every forthcoming gifts of gratitude when you forgave him for the umpteenth time," he nods with an air of understanding, much though it had riled their relationship up he still felt pangs of guilt for keeping his eye always on the stray.

She nodded taking her time to formulate an equally revealing answer,

"it's when he's caught with your ward sister that it metaphorically hits' you in the balls," perhaps a little to revealing she blushes at her forward remark.

"I can see why it would, why did he feel the need to stray further than the marital bed," he smirks, eyeing her body in sheer indulgence, unperturbed by the smile forming on her face.

"I couldn't say in all honesty, but he did feel fit to try other's out, then again so did I," he's even more intrigued now, if it's something he likes it's an adulteress, it's one who has confidence in her own performance. Falsities run high in both jobs and he can't help but notice the feeling of not letting it get to her, genuine air filling her surroundings.

"It's the thrill of the chase isn't it," he tells her offhand, sliding to his feet "well it is for me," letting his elbows rest on the bar.

"Oh really," she eye's him coyly, shrinking the last of her drink away, looking at him intently, "leaving when the night is so interminably early?" letting her voice rest on him for a moment, he merely smiles knowledgeably.

"Well I was going to invite you to my apartment to share out the last of a perfectly aging whisky, but then again," he stopped; childishly looking at her with an unsubtle look of passion as she let herself hop from the stool and easily onto her heels, steady as if she were stone cold sober.

It took little time for them to reach his abode, the stairs climbed efficiently and the door flung open as they revelled in the warmth it provided, slinking towards the kitchen he was about to reach for the whisky when he lent his eyes towards her, sinking into her enticing glare that admonished any doubts he had about having her that night. Seasoned pro's never tended to make light of foreplay.

Slipping the white coat from her slender form he let his hand grope around her back, settling at the small, his lips imploded on hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth made him taste the generous tendrils of gin lacing in it aristocratically, he felt reverent for a moment as she let her hands caress the wide expanse of his back, slipping first a finger then a hand under his braces, pushing them aside enticed him closer to her, sinking his hands on the buttons of her top, undoing them one by one, slipping the shirt from her back ripping into the clasp of her bra he felt his trousers drop, leaving his boxer freefalling behind them, a quick flip of the catch on her skirt and she too was ready, leaning effetely towards one another he felt himself excite, sliding into her as the reached the expensive cotton sheets, delving deeper he pinned her hands to the bed above her, letting the erotic noise of her come fill the air like orchestral music. Feeling her skin begin to dew felt like a torrent running over him, egging him onto the next ravine. Whipping the moment till it curdled into soft effigies of ecstasy he Let her go, like a rag doll she flopped back, grateful of the release he'd provided her with, yet not feeling indebted to him.

"You come delightfully," he sighed, letting another kiss fall on her naked breast, consuming it with his right hand, sinking a kiss over her nipple, sending it to affinity and back, his lust felt like a poison lying caustically in her veins as she swept him over, letting him writhe on the bed, she slid a skilled hand round his sizeable manhood, shrinking him to nothing more than a gibbering teenager. Allowing time to enjoy the feeling of him the cacophony of emotions filled the air, neither one of them able to deny the alluring taste they gave to proceeding's, feeling like a well oiled orchestra about to perform for the first time, well drilled in the role they played and knowledgeable in the effect it would have. As she let her mouth drink in his juices he let out a dull monotonous moan, for someone of such wise words the Neanderthal effect of this was surprising, lovemaking reduced many men to nothing, but his response was somewhat spectacular. Letting her tongue lick his tip she released her grip, allowing him to re enter her, their lips locking in a somewhat odd tasting embrace, the alcohol long gone, replaced with a devilish taste; himself.

"I must say, Mr Justice Deed, that you come delightfully as well," she smirked, letting their naked body's relax as one, her breast's lying heavy on his chest, sending his skin fantastically wild, soaring through a myriad of emotions, lusting, discontent, worry that this woman would leave him as soon as she could, hating him for being so self consumed.


	2. Introspection

Hmm, I'm not entirely sure what to make of this myself, it's a first time threesome for me and however fun it was to write it I'm not entirely convinced, we shall blame Kristine for this once again as she kept faith in me to do this and also took time to beta it so thank you! I love reviews as much as I love the 'ships I've got going here!

Part 2 : _Introspection_

He stood over her hours later, his mind consumed with the previous night's antics as he'd writhed under her apparently thick skin. The light permeating through the bedroom window gave her a soft, doll like after glow. He was patient, enjoying the satisfaction of having been so perfunctory. It hadn't been the sex so much but the fresh intellect she'd provided him with, not the monotony of a shared profession, someone with an intriguing background and plenty of skeletons in her closet, similar to him in many ways, keeping vices far from the surface so as to inflict minimal emotional strain on acquaintances, yet hurting from them with every step they took.

Slipping quietly from the room the judge made his way through the morning ritual of making coffee, hitting himself with a double shot with the quiet hope of making himself wake up. He may have been an experienced drinker but the dull ache that came from several whiskies never desisted, it was on those unfortunate occasions that his sentences were harsh, a payback for sitting through the case whilst hung over.

Making a point to open the curtains to their fullest he watched as she slowly released herself from a satisfactory slumber.

"what time is it?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she sat up, taking a moment to realise she was devoid of clothing.

"It's just gone eight but I have work today as I suspect you do, took the liberty of making you coffee," he smiled, handing her the steaming cup which she gratefully received, sipping it delicately before reaching to the ground to pick up the various items of clothing that had been so carelessly misplaced the night before.

"Here take this," he offered, passing one of his shirts her way, giving her the chance to regain a slight modicum of dignity as she continued following the path of clothes towards the kitchen.

"I never realised I was quite that bad yesterday," she admitted, feeling the trilling pain of a hang over settle in her head as she continued to drink the refreshing liquid.

"Oh you weren't, I think you'll find it's a lethal mix," he stated dully, getting his things for the day laid out so he could continue without being interrupted, the sign of a well accustomed adulterer, inside or outside of marriage.

"What, drugs and alcohol," she questioned irritably, confident she hadn't once again dabbled in the effects of marijuana, the last time in medical school had been torture enough, landing her in the bed of some geek who'd taken on a god like appearance.

"No, post consummation afterglow and a hangover, I find those happen a lot when I'm around." She was slightly taken aback at his unsubtle ego but she found something was stopping her from responding in equal egotistical intellect. "You're more than welcome to stay for the day, it looks like you could do with some time away from anything. I have work until six and then an untenable meeting with my ex wife but your company would be most pleasurable," he continued, hovering at the bathroom door as she considered his request.

"My meeting the ex wife is something of a fast move, perhaps I shall stay, see if London has anything to offer me." She eyed him cautiously, still parading an air of seduction in his shirt, if not more so since it barely covered her, letting long stems of utter perfection wink at him with every move of her leg, he was catching himself nearly stare at her backside as she lifted a banana from his fruit bowl.

"I'm sure you'll make a fine go of the shops, now please do excuse me, a judge late for duty is about as useful as a defendant still in bed," he smiled finally succumbing to the arduous task of dragging himself to work.

It took less than twenty minutes for the judge to ready himself, looking effortlessly smart in his suit with Mimi in his arms as he strode down the stairs and out to the car, he was aware of her piercing gaze at the upstairs window a delicate hand sweeping the curtain back. Fixing her with a cheeky wink he got into the car, setting Mimi in the passenger seat and setting off with worrying haste.

Connie hadn't felt as odd in ages, the mere situation was confusing to her, finding herself so intimately acquainted with the judge on her husband's case, she was no expert in law but there was a niggling regret that it had been entirely unlawful. Yet it gave her a fresh buzz that she hadn't felt in months, sinking into the mundane routine of life had given her stability yet this apparent dirty weekend was making her feel more alive than ever. Intent on making the most of her sudden bout of freedom Connie showered and changed effortlessly and headed out of the apartment, met with something of a disconcerting glance from the butler tending to the hall as she stepped onto the crisp winter's morning.

O

When the sun had finally given up working for the day Connie opened the door of the taxi, needing little help with the numerous bag's she'd acquired during the day. It hadn't been necessary to buy the new dress, shoes, underwear and jewellery but when she got the rare opportunity to go shopping she well and truly went shopping, blowing a sizeable proportion of her salary on it. Immediate self-gratification.

Finding the flat still vacant of the judge she let herself in, taking the chance to investigate the extensive rooms, finding the dining table set eloquently for three and the living room primed to accept visitors. Hearing the sound of a car pulling up outside she quickly let herself into the bedroom. Carefully getting changed into her purchases and admiring her appearance in the mirror Connie stood, not sure if she was hiding or feeling intimidated by the sound of the female voice filtering through.

Jumping slightly as the judge entered his bedroom she met his gaze with a seductive smile,

"You look amazing," he told her huskily, flinging his suit jacket off in lieu of a more relaxed unbuttoned shirt, the intention evident by the number of button's slowly being undone.

"And you're heading that way," she teased in response, slinking round the room so she was stood inches from the door, her deep brown heel tapping lightly on the carpet as he followed her.

"After you," he smiled, offering her first choice through the door.

"No after you," she insisted, following him into the lounge where a stunning blonde woman stood as relaxed as if she were in her own home, meeting her with a smile she let herself be introduced.

"George, this is Connie Beauchamp. She's been attending court this week, and I felt she may be of some use for that case you were working on," the judge smiled, innocently revealing the ulterior motive for inviting George to his house, though affections still ran high between the couple they barely met outside of court and rarely discussed anything more than work. "Connie this is George Channing, my ex-wife, and a nasty breed of soulless lawyer you so kindly refer to us as," he continued, fixing the pair with an awkward wink.

"Despite appearances we aren't all as soulless as John, it's a pleasure to meet you Connie," George admitted eventually, shaking Connie's hand before taking a seat at the slightly longer sofa, it wasn't until she brought her legs under herself that Connie felt happy enough to sit down. "So, John never mentioned what your job was," the more formal woman admonished eventually, taking a keen interest in Connie's background, only the dumb and stupid would miss an after glow that John possessed, and to decipher whether it was a high class call girl, or genuine lover he'd taken in was top on George's mind.

"I'm the clinical lead in Cardiotharacics in Holby General," Connie stated with an overly sweet smile, it still felt a slight tad awkward in John's absence as he fixed the drinks, clearly leaving them time to stew, relax and grow fond of each other's company. Whilst not strictly kosher, the motive was slowly beginning to take effect.

"Ahh, yes, not meaning to be forward but I thought perhaps you could skim over a case I've got coming up, it's a borderline consent issue, I have a strong willed fifteen year old who doesn't wish to undergo surgery that could make her life easier and a feisty mother fighting the case." George stopped, allowing John to quietly interrupt with the alcohol sufficient to keep them entertained for the evening.

"I'd be happy to, these cases always interest the medical world," Connie smirked; bring her body forward in the seat as if to announce she wasn't intimidated any more. "So how long were you married," Connie continued, taking a sip of the gin and tonic she'd been given, enjoying the tingle it gave her.

"Well we were involved for ten years, if that's what you mean," George stated with a dull ache that had ceased to leave her, "and our daughter thought it a good enough way to diddle us both to the maximum."

"Oh come on George, Charlie is hardly to blame for that," the judge protested, sinking into the other sofa, slowly draining his whisky glass.

"No I think you're dick was, but we digress. You and your husband are still together?" George asked hesitantly, eyeing the strife Connie was putting herself through as she formulated an answer which didn't give rise to the heartache yet shower her with sympathy.

"We're separated," Connie whispered; glancing at the judge to see if he were going to add anything to the statement, without hesitation she continued, "he's at his majesties pleasure for fraud and manslaughter."

"Ahh, the high class law breaking classic, did he claim it was because he loved you," George asked without hesitation.

"It was something like that, although to be honest it was around the time he got caught with my ward sister that I started to doubt it," Connie smiled, looking back at it now, it was almost laughable, the dignity she'd struggled to maintain had given her the upper hand now, Everytime she'd accosted Chrissy since had been eventful, snide comments and the moral high ground had made work bearable.

Claiming he needed to check that supper was progressing sufficiently John excused himself, giving light to conversation he really didn't need to be party to.

"Catching them at it is awful and yet fantastically amusing at the same time."

"Oh don't I know it, John has a way with women, don't think you're the first or the last," George admits, not needing to force a laugh as the women share a lifetime of heartache, pain and mis guided trust in one short sentence.

"He's more like me than you think," Connie replies; feeling a slight smile cross her face as relaxation finally overcomes her, drink helping immensely.

"Ladies, dinner is ready," the judge drawls, suddenly appearing at the door, providing a hand to guide them to the dining room, dinner consisting of a meat dish which neither woman can distinguish yet they tuck in silently, enjoying the peace that fills the room, silence overcoming as the sound of rush hour traffic slowly dissipated.

In the few hours it had taken them from arriving to having dinner and retiring to the lounge various issues had been discussed, some on Connie's ground though most on the judge's his inquisitive nature, feeling somewhat like a petulant child sticking his nose out of joint. Connie, as George had always been, was firm on him, giving him clear signals as to when the conversation was dodgy, edgy or bang out of order.

The effects of the wine, brandy and various other spirits consumed over the duration were starting to have a greater effect on lawyers than it appeared to be on Connie, fond memories of university had told her that, despite every vocation thinking they could party forever, it was mainly the doctor's who'd come closest to suffering a bout of serious liver failure.

"Is something on you're mind," George asked inquisitively as they sat musing in the lounge. Sensing the other woman's introspection she felt her nature offering a question. It was something George had always done, to question judgements, decisions, thoughts, anything that she could cross-examine to the point of irritation.

"No, just a little bit of satisfaction in that my husband has four grimy walls, a locked door and a rough sounding murderer for company and I have practically the opposite," watching the coy smirk that toyed on Connie's lips sent an odd feeling up her spine, something she'd never felt since a love she'd held during a rebellious semester in Law school.

"I'm pretty sure he'll still get it inside," George muttered to an appreciative laughter from her companions.

"That's a little harsh," John quipped eventually, evidently aware of the tension filling the air, unsure whether it was sexual or territorial, the two women were clearly a match made in heaven, able to spar one another from the fence with the ease of taking sweets from a child.

"Hardly, he's getting what he deserves, anal sex with a armed robber could be right up Michael's street, I'd never know," Connie interrupted, sending a fresh waft of giggling round the room, not normally party to such admonishing infantile behaviour brought a fresh spark to the inquisition.

"It really doesn't bother you that he's serving time and you're out here, socialising and enjoying life," George asked in a more serious note, sinking the last of her wine with comfortable ease.

"Not really, we'd never been monogamous, why stop now," Connie replied with a dead beat drawl that sent George spinning once again, unsure of whether it was the alcohol or the arousal within her that was causing her to loose momentary consciousness, feeling nothing but a light headed haze for what felt like only seconds.

Taking a deep breath of relief as her eyes slowly flickered open, Connie stepped back from the bed, sitting on the edge as George sat up slowly.

"You gave us quite a fright," Connie muttered as George relinquished at the other woman's touch.

"Where's John?" she asked, still holding Connie's hand as if the world were about to dissipate around her, unsure of whether letting go would loose the spark they were feeling between them, more than a tingle, passionate, enticing and fulfilling.

"HE went to get you a glass of water," Connie purred, moving from sitting on the edge of the bed to full on, sitting hands around George's slender waist, her lips locked on the other woman's, her hands ravenous on the tendrils of hair cascading on the other's neck, draping thoughtfully on shoulder's.

"We shouldn't…." giving George little time to protest Connie felt the top disappear under her skill, lifting her lips to the pert, tight, scar less abdomen dirtying it with perfect butterfly kisses, wrenching at her flesh before licking it back into place, caressing her belly button with deft skill and tender emotion. Letting her free hand release the clasp on George's trousers Connie gasped at the light satin thong barely working its job of keeping her modesty hidden, giving her a moment to regain her composure Connie let her mouth slowly draw back the luxurious material so it fell to the wayside.

Standing at the door felt like being in an immensely kinky porn film, watching talented women eat each other as they were left little to be desired, he'd never thought of Connie having the ability to make George come so well without much hard work, seeing her pupils dilate, her body flaccid to the other's touch, little pittance of ecstasy manifesting itself in powerless yelps. Stepping forward into the room John let a slight cough escape his lips, gently joining them in the bed it suddenly felt wrong, the three of them, his ex wife and mother of his daughter and the latest lover he'd picked up.

Slowly they untwined from one another; the women now virtually naked set themselves one on each side of his languorous body, peeling back his shirt gave rise to a fresh wave of energy surge down the judge's back as his torso became wet from the kisses berating on it. On one side he had the fiery temper of George locking his lips in a passionate whirl of lust like Lucifer had been reincarnated, on the other ice queen herself Connie Beauchamp, someone who had the luxury of her reputation preceding her. Feeling her hand grasp at his manhood he attempted to let out a long intermittent groan, stopped by the tongue searching his mouth for something he was sure didn't exist.

Letting himself roll over to Connie's side of the bed he forcefully let himself inside her, drinking in the aroused aroma the distinguished her from all the rest, letting her soft wills turn into deep purrs of outflow, filling the room with the steamy atmosphere of sexual lust. Feeling George's lips pin her to the bed was verging on the point of too much for Connie as the other woman's tongue pressed into hers, drinking in the last remaining taste's of red wine, memories of holiday's spent abroad filling her mind, the heat emanating from her body, her core mimicking the feel of a high sun glowing on her body. Paradise and heaven rolled up in one adventure, bringing the feeling of want to the foreground, something she'd not felt in a long time, even before her husband's incarceration. Writhing under the touch of George's hand across the stiff peak of her nipple she gasped loudly as the hand turned into a mouth, teasing at the sensitive flesh, the feeling sending her to peak once again.

Letting George continue to make love to Connie the judge turned his attentions to her, berating her thigh's with tantalizing kisses, letting his finger's enter her slowly, brushing her g spot immediately, remedying her uncontrollable cries with his lips, licking her centre with skill he'd perfected over many years.

Coming full circle meant a lot to them, watching Connie move her hands around the light tan of her areolas felt magical, reminding her of nothing but happy, fulfilling thought's of being needed, having a purpose in life which extended beyond the courtroom, confines of work or hiding from reality. Drinking in the taste of herself as John's lip's collided with hers felt satisfying, as if she would never need to eat again for want of nothing more.

Amazing, yet f u c k I n g wrong, brilliant yet absolutely evil, heavenly yet the work of Lucifer, infidelity with a hint of lust.


	3. Empty

_Thank you to Karen for betaing this wonderfully, and for putting up with my eternal email's. Things should hopefully pick up with the next few parts _

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Part 3 : Empty 

Having sunk into the deep depths of satisfied slumber the three professionals remained dead to the world as night turned into morning, light streaming into the room bearing no effect on their consciousness. Still with his arms round Connie to his right and George to his left John wasn't sure if he felt glad that last night had happened, far from being bang out of order with regards to Jo and their relationship it still held the damming marks of unlawful love on Connie's account, this amazingly beautiful, talented, witty and intelligent surgeon was still hurting over her husband whether she admitted it or not.

Hearing the soft tinkle of her mobile from the depth's of her handbag lying in the corner of the room Connie inwardly groaned, feeling so safe in the embrace completely mirrored her normal tone of feeling's. Sliding out of the bed still completely naked Connie fidgeted around the room for something to wear. Lifting a stray shirt from the floor she quickly threw it on before fetching her phone.

"Connie Beauchamp speaking," she stated tonelessly, irritated that someone chose to call her so early.

"Connie, I'm glad you're still alive," came the sultry dark voice, somewhere it the tangle of syllable's Connie could hear the unspoken pangs of relief that he'd reached her.

"Ric, why are you calling me this early, and on my mobile," Connie tutted, wandering around the room completely ignoring the other occupants as they continued a halfhearted slumber

"Oh I was just wondering when the medical director would be returning to her role, since I've been told to take up the slack, that and I'm curious as to what's been keeping you in London," feeling the intuitive smile play on his lips Connie paused for a moment, feeling a slight rush in considering herself the run away teen she'd once been.

"Nothing for you to worry about, now one, is the hospital still standing, two, are you in my office, if so remove yourself immediately and three how pressing is it that I need to return," Connie asked an air of authority in her voice, putting the final touches to her suitcase she took the opportunity to lay out a fresh outfit, making ready her quick escape.

"Very funny Connie, the hospital is still here unfortunately, no I'm not in your office and the sooner the better we've got the two registrar's running the shop floor since Elliot is on leave for his daughter's play or something," Ric responded dutifully, "that and I'm feeling a little bit lonely," ignoring his pine at the end of the spiel Connie countered.

"Very well I'll be in work by 6 pm tonight and can you pass a message on to the astute maverick and his meticulous friend not to perform surgery unless the patient is at death's door, today isn't for making stupid decisions."

"Will do Connie, thanks," Ric replied before hanging up, turning her attentions back to the task in hand Connie wandered back over to the side of the bed she'd emanated from sitting on the end of the bed.

"I take it that was the hospital wondering where you'd absconded from?" John mused, lifting his arm from around George so he could sit up properly.

"Sadly yes, I've got to return for tonight, two registrars in control of my ward bodes extremely well for legal firms and disaster for the hospital," Connie admitted, "if you don't mind I'm going to have a shower and get ready."

"No, be my guest," John replied politely, watching Connie gather a brown dress, matching heels and underwear before heading to the bathroom where the sound of the powerful shower became audible moment's later. "George," John continued, turning his gaze to her still naked chest that lay begging at him.

"Hmmm," George intoned sleepily, her voice unusually filled with the soft dreamy tone that came after a passionate night and long lie. Saying nothing to one another whilst they lay there, John letting his hand wander up to her abdomen, resting on the pinnacle of her left breast as he slowly drew his finger round the darker skin surrounding the erect nipple. Gasping slightly she responded with a trailing hand on his groin circling just to the right of his manhood, fighting the urge to let her know just how much this was pleasuring him felt like being the bull in Spain, fighting the urge to stay still and do nothing to respond.

"John not now, Connie is still in the house, we can't," George protested, "Anyway you and I both have a case up in less than an hour," resisting the urge to take it further for the fear of dragging another lover in front of the committee John stopped, letting her get out of the bed and slip into yesterday's clothes, shivering as she finally built enough energy to make it through to the kitchen for a well needed shot of coffee.

As Connie emerged from the bathroom George was taken aback at her perfect appearance, the dress sitting on her curvaceous body, giving enough of a professional air to deal with hospital life, yet being easy on the eye.

"I don't seem to know you that well, yet feel like I've known you a lifetime," George stated as Connie dropped her things on a chair in the corridor.

"Well we did sleep together," Connie smiled, going about the necessary to fix her own hit of coffee, sipping tentatively whilst keeping a wary eye on George who was flustering to find an answer which made sense.

"Yes, well, the less said about that the better, in court this sort of stuff, well we don't discuss it," George replied slowly, eyeing Connie suspiciously as she steadily drank her coffee, appearing to have ignored George's request. Finally having the cool head devoid of a hangover Connie strolled from the kitchen, slipping her heels off momentarily as she felt the soft carpet swaddle her feet.

"You're secret's safe with me, don't worry," Connie chimed eventually placing the coffee mug on the work surface, "now if you'll excuse me I want to slip away quietly and get back to my life," immediately digging in the drawer closest to the kitchen entrance George fumbled around for a bit of paper, scrawling a number and handing it to Connie.

"Just in case you ever need anything, apparently we do a good line in legal representation," George smiled, giving a kind gesture of affection towards Connie, sliding her hand carefully across her palm neither could deny the pang of passion that jumped between them.

"Ah, yes, thank you, John has my details if you still need me for that case, but I'm not sure of how much help I could realistically be," letting a smile fade slowly on her lips Connie stepped thoughtfully towards the door, dragging the perfectly packed case behind her, swiftly moving to the window George watched as she walked off down the road and turned the corner, leaving as soon as she'd come in.

Slipping quietly from the flat so she could get to the court in time to change George wasn't sure why she felt vibrantly awake, despite having had approximately two hours sleep. It couldn't have been the usual contemptuous anger that normally prevailed over her since she's barely uttered a b I t c h y word to anyone since yesterday, discounting the usual snipe at John which never ceased to put them at ease, an old habit grown out of years spent together. But the influence on her had only taken over within the past day, never had she felt so under the skin of someone so sure of themselves, bothered by no one and enjoying anyone's company. Making a note to ask John for her number George slipped daintily into the locker room, procuring a fresh shirt from her locker.

"George," came the familiar voice of her taunt, Jo, "those look remarkably like yesterday's clothes," came the sniping continuation of her greeting. Ignoring the jibe George quietly stalked to the cubical sitting round the corner of the cramp space.

"Did you have a point to make Jo or were you just attempting to boost your faltering ego by commenting on my state of disorganisation," kicking herself for finally returning to the super b I t c h persona which she hid behind so well George continued getting ready, moving swiftly to the mirror to reapply the threadbare make up she had with her.

"You look different to yesterday, who was it?" Jo mocked, assigning her lover neither gender nor name. Feeling like she was back at school wasting a pointless break in the toilets, reapplying the makeup that she knew would send the over-hormonal guys in her year crazy. Boarding school had been successful in one thing, making her coy at winding people up.

"None of your business, that's who it was," George snapped, finding she needed coffee once again, a two hour gap had to be near on her record.

"John is completely baggage free you know, there really is no need to feel guilty," Jo quipped, turning the key to her locker and turning to stare at George who was still fixing her robes in place.

"Jo for the love of god, why on earth would I voluntarily sleep with my ex husband, let alone have you suggest such a thing,"

"Since you were clearly jealous of the bit on the side he took home from the bar the other night, you know the one, short dark hair, legs that went on endlessly and a body even he couldn't resist," Jo smirked, finding perverse pleasure in riling George up at such an early hour.

"You mean Connie Beauchamp, she has the brain's to match him too, and from what little I hear of the medical world she's a far better cardiotharacics surgeon than your fiancé will ever be," taking the last word as victory George stepped from the room leaving Jo somewhat confused as to what had gotten into George, berating her supposed lover like she had did nothing but quell the feeling of hatred within her, John would have some answering to do.


	4. Coming

Part 4

For the first time in what appeared to be an eternity George wished she could have sloped off for the day. The midnight adventures had caught up with her, causing her to become even more irritable and lack a sense of compassion she usual managed to maintain in court. Setting her belongings back in her locker she wondered who exactly would keep her company for the evening, lest she be on her own. Not wanting the mindless f u c k she'd get from Neil, George found herself wafting up to chambers, (bee lining) making a bee-line to John's lair, knocking politely on the door and ignoring the call to go away. It gave her the slight sense of belonging as she smiled, pushing the door aside.

"George," John stated in mocked surprise, it had been a little concealed secret that he knew who was at his door by the sound of their footfall. Standing up from his desk chair he moved Mimi from her perch on the sofa and offered her the seat. "Any particular reason you're here?" he observed her flounder for a moment before accepting his offer and sitting down beside him.

"I was wondering if you had Connie Beauchamp's details, I want to ask her to be an expert witness for my case," George asked, evading his gaze, knowing that if their eye's locked for anything more than a nanosecond the feeling's she was in turmoil with would surface.

"Is that all you want her number for?" John quipped, turning his head to one side as she let her hands chaff uncomfortably, gazing at the window that had become all the more interesting.

"Yes, John, last night was fun, experimental, interesting, call it what you will, but don't dam me with any more," slightly aghast at her spiel, John sat in contented silence, ignoring the fact she knew as well as he did that this woman had wriggled under her skin in only a matter of hours; it was an odd ominous feeling that had overcome him, yet somehow he'd managed to put it aside for the meantime, hoping to deal with it when the time came.

"I can give you her details if that's how much you want to meet her again, but next time why not invite me along too, if only to be a fly on the wall," immediately hitting him in the stomach playfully George broke a smile, he had a point: though never admitting to it, she would dapple with men and woman; granted the latter had not occurred since she'd been in uni but then bound for a life in court meant private lives could be kept as such.

"John Deed, you'll be the death of me," she retorted, standing to get a drink from the cabinet that lay still in the corner of the airy room, sloshing generous amounts of alcohol into the cut glass tumblers.

"Didn't take you to be an alcoholic," John smirked, accepting the drink with his usual ease, slightly taken aback that it had been her who had offered him and not the other way around. Watching her slump uneasily onto the sofa he let silence fall on them, she clearly had something to say but forcing it out of her would be pointless, it would only serve to close her up further.

"She has a use for the case," George stated eventually, drinking the remainder of the amber liquid with speed, making a point to stand up and leave John alone. It had been her way since she'd met him to blast in on him, have two minutes of his time to just be and then leave and not speak to him for weeks.

"Is that all," he stated slowly, "or do you want to meet her because you two clearly shared something new and positively delightful last night that is making you doubt everything you know?" turning to face him so she could reply properly, George stumbled, attempting to find words that were clearly not there.

"I… just… well I felt so good this morning that it's concerning me," George mumbled, returning to the seat where John sat with a contented smile on his face, it had been an exceptionally long time since he'd seen her this wound up over something, or someone for sake or argument.

"Let her go George, thinking about it will only make you even more depraved," the smirk mimed on her own lips as he let out a stifling laugh, it wasn't that she was Satan's daughter, it was more a series of unfortunate events that had led to her to close up to anyone who got too close, mostly people took this as a sign to back off but in the case of John it posed itself as an invitation to delve deeper and find out the real cause of all her grief. This was why they enjoyed a love hate relationship.

"You're probably right, barring being a witness for this case she's going to have little reason to be around me, it wasn't like…" She trailed off not being able to complete the sentence, for fear of being incriminated by the courts, heaven help her her father, she wasn't sure if it was the risk worth taking, "I enjoyed it or anything." She stopped smiling to herself for being courageous for once.

"Well she made you, and for the record, me, come delightfully. You never know what will come of the relationship George; she may need your help soon and you hers, however for the meantime I'm here," his request was obvious and since her relationship with Neil was tenuous on a good day. There was only so many days she could go with coming home to a silent kitchen, make a lazy dinner for one, face the argument when he came home at gone ten o clock and demanded food, then a mindless screw. Feeling's had no place in their home, it was something she missed, being able to cry into a bottle of wine of an evening, laugh at a comedy film, be who she was not George Channing, wife of Neil, spouse of Neil, relative of Neil.

Leaning in towards John she let him snake an arm around her, holding her tight, not for want of a post to grab on during passionless s e x but for being her. "This is highly unlawful," she mumbled as his grip only got tighter, it felt reassuring to have his heartbeat so close to hers, reminding her of the moments they would spend together on a Sunday morning, tucked up in bed together with little to care about.

"Do you ever stop?" he replied simply, leaving her feeling unsure of what he meant, talking or thinking about law? Both of which she was always capable of doing, whether she realised it or not

"Stop what?" he fondled a lock of her hair between his finger's chaffing at the natural blonde strands, liking at his skin like gold, not of money but of love.

"Being so likeable, loveable, admirable," feeling the effects of his verbal drabble come to him in the form of her hand landing on the end of his zip, letting her finger swirl the bunching fabric that lay tender on his lap. Smiling slightly as he let her lie out on top of him properly, her tender body lying in the weight of his hands, her flimsy top removing itself by some mysterious force as they felt their bodies entwine, leg over leg, skirt under trouser, bare leg on bare leg, bra on shirt, breast on breast, feeling her hand lace round his pride and joy felt immensely pleasurable, as if they were back in their twenties, he the master, she the student, the person meant to mentor her prising her insecurities to the surface of her soul before carving them out in a passionate crest of ecstasy. His lips encased hers swiftly bringing her to the point of no return by the mere flick of her nipple, consuming her groan with a kiss, long and lasting as he trailed further down her dewy skin letting his fingers glaze over her smooth entrance, lifting her legs apart George could already fell the wetness growing as her body surged through the torrent of emotion lacing in her veins as if he were some sort of lecherous poison. Slipping inside her he played on his old trick, giving his fingers space to move over her clit so the come was all the more unbearable, excitable, out of control, something he savoured since it was all she ever did. Hearing her groan forced the wax confining her to the realms of constraint melt her to nothing.

"Now do you feel so confused?" John mutters as they lie in comfortable afterglow, the heady mix of alcohol, life and sex making them content, if only for the evening……


End file.
